The Things She'll Do
by Ookami-and-Chem-Mu
Summary: Its been ten years, and Mai is gone. Everyone thinks about it, but no one wants to talk about it. That is, until an interesting girl walks into the office... story is Ookami's, not Chem Mu's
1. I Dream'd in a Dream prologue

**Greetings and salutations all! First of all I wish to thank profusely all who took the time to click on my fic and read it. This is actually the first fic I've ever had the time/energy to write on my own. As such, constructive criticism is much appreciated. Actually, any reviews are appreciated. Even flames, as they can be given to Yasuhara, to do with as he pleases. Although I'm really not sure if I want a closet pyro like him running around with fire. **

**Anyhow, please enjoy this brief prologue to my fic. If you have any questions, ask—they may or may not be answered, depending on whether they'll give away the plot. Tallyho!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Ghost Hunt, I'd never sleep out of fear of experiencing all the crap Mai goes through in my dreams. The plot and characters are mine though.**

Kazuya Shibuya opened his eyes to darkness. After taking a moment to absorb this information, he blinked.

'I don't recall falling asleep,' he mused, 'or it being any later than noon.' In fact, he hadn't even had his afternoon tea yet. Not that it was any loss anymore.

Raising his head off of his dark wood desk, he brushed his hair out of his eyes and massaged the back of his neck. Surprisingly it wasn't actually sore, as he'd have expected from falling asleep at his desk. The no-longer-quite-so-young boss didn't waste energy pondering this as he waited for his eyes to adjust before departed, when beside him a voice that was decidedly not Lin's spoke,

"It's been such a long time, Naru," the man spun in his chair at the use of a nickname now only used by a certain group of people, "a very long time." The owner of the voice, who was sitting on the corner of the desk facing the window, turned her gaze from the suddenly present full moon to look "Naru" in the face and smile gently. Naru was in near-shock, unable to believe what he was seeing, after so many years. For along moment, he said nothing, unable to grasp words appropriate for this situation, having never been in it before. Then, almost of their own accord, his lips moved,

"M-Mai…?" He was sure it was her, and yet, she was so different. And yet the same! The brown hair looked longer, and darker in some places, although that may have been due to the light. She looked about the right height, but had managed to gain enough weight that Naru knew he wouldn't have to worry about her diet anymore (not that he ever had, mind you). The eyes still carried kindness and mirth, but seemed to hold exhaustion and grief deep inside them as well now. Even her smile had changed slightly—it still displayed encouragement, happiness, and some other, unrecognized emotion, and at the same time seemed very tired.

The figure didn't really respond, though Naru new she heard him. She simply closed her eyes and turned back to the full moon. Without opening those eyes, she tilted her face up, so the moonlight shown on it. Her skin was luminescent. Then, after a pause, she opened her mouth again.

"It's a beautiful moon," the Mai-figure said, slowly lifting her eyelids, "don't you think, Naru?" In that exact moment, when her eyes had reopened fully and she'd glanced in his direction again, she changed. Without warning a gash, oozing blood down into her eye, appeared on her forehead. The same dark liquid began spreading through her clothes from some unseen wound on her torso. Mai brought her hands to her mouth as she began to cough harshly, and then pulled her hands back to reveal—

"Naru!" Kazuya Shibuya, or as you now know, Naru, opened his eyes to the angry glare of sunlight off his polished, dark wood desk. As well as Lin shaking his shoulder, somewhat panicked. Naru sat up in his chair, rubbing his actually sore neck.

"Yes, Lin?" he asked, with a tone that plainly demonstrated how he did not wish to discuss the event, period. After briefly displaying a concerned expression for his employer, Lin cleared his throat and gestured towards the door.

"Takigawa-san, Matsuzaki-san, Brown-san, and Hara-san are in the conference room,waiting for you, apparently. They're also expecting Yasuhara-san as well."

Naru rubbed his temples—this was not a good time for such frivolities—and responded, "Fine, tell them I'm coming. And kindly remind them my office is not a café."

"Of course," the tall gentleman left without another word, allowing his boss to gather his thoughts. Said boss remained seated and quite for a long while afterwards. Or perhaps it was only a few seconds, Naru didn't know. He just wished it really were night, so he wouldn't have to deal with that incessant band of psychics. When he was sure he could no longer put it off, he rose from his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The only thoughts Naru had as he turned the knob and opened his door were, 'Why don't I ever just have them arrested for loitering?' and 'Why, after ten years, am I having a dream like that now?'

**Psst—see the pretty button in the corner? Press it…you know you want to…come on, it's calling you--pretending to be the button Press me! Press me!**

**- Um, does anyone have a better idea as to what to call that room where their always chatting? I was going to say waiting room, but Naru interviews his clients in there too…**


	2. Chapter 1 Shadow on my Shoulder

**AN: Oh, wow! I didn't think I'd get so many reviews! Thank you all so much! Opening my email on my birthday and seeing eight reviews made me unimaginably happy. And more kept coming—they're actually the reason I got this out so soon. I can't guarantee the other updates will be as prompt though. Unfortunately, I have other projects I have to write too—scholarship essays, honors essays, my play for class, etc. But I won't abandon this fic. It just may take more time for some updates.**

**Also, I'd like to thank Chem mu, who has been posting these for me because for some reason my computer won't let me login to Don't ask why, we've been trying to figure that out for over a year. Technology just hates me.**

**Disclaimer: Um, I made a slight error in the prologues disclaimer. I accidentally just typed "characters" instead of original characters. So, just so there's no misunderstanding and I don't get sued—the only things I claim copyright on are the plot of this fic and any characters original to it. All characters and places from the manga/anime belong to Fuyumi Ono, Del Ray manga, and whoever is producing the anime (I want to say TV Tokyo, but I don't think that's right). Also, some of you may notice that I'm using the titles of poems as titles for chapters. I got the idea in my head while going over poetry in AP English, and thought it'd be cool—anyway, I don't claim ownership over those poems either.**

**Last thing—a few of the reviews suggested reception room instead of conference room, and I thought that sounded good, so I've changed it. Thanks! Now that I've finished rambling, you may read to you hearts content. I hope you like it.**

The tired monk/musician sighed as he leaned back into his chair, proceeding to crack each of his knuckles individually, smirking as Ayako's eyebrow twitched each time, while she tried to focus on examining her nail polish for chips. He knew he was just asking for arthritis, but seeing just how far he could push the shrine "maiden" was simply too tempting, if immature.

"Meh," Takigawa thought, "maturity's overrated these days." Running out of fingers, he looked out the window for more Ayako-irritating inspiration as they waited for Naru to get his narcissistic ass out of his office. Blinking, he paused as he saw his reflection in the glass, not recognizing the graying, short-haired image. Which was fairly reasonable—he'd never cut his hair quite this short before yesterday. The monk had decided the time had come to give up shoulder and ponytail length hair when, two days before, he awoke from falling asleep in the reception room to find his head covered in glitter and hair tied up in pigtails—with Ayako sitting oh-so-innocently across from him. It wasn't all that bad of a transition—actually the shorter cut made his gray hairs look more dignified—it was just yet another sign of the passage of time since…Mai…

Takigawa gave another sigh, this one frustrated, and ran his right hand through his chopped up locks. He had to stop doing this. Really, he was being ridiculous. The part-timer and was the reason they were all at SPR today, and he could barely bring himself to think her name, much less recall her face. After ten years, it was still too painful. It wasn't so much the loss itself that hurt, but the monk's inability to do anything about it. Takigawa shook his head and turned back toward the group—it wouldn't do for him to get caught up on that line of thought right now. Gazing at the room's other occupants, Takigawa tried to gauge how they were handling this.

Ayako was…yeah…

Anyway, John seemed cheerful enough, but the deep purple circles under his eyes spoke volumes about how hard he much have been working himself. He also seemed a great deal thinner, which concerned the musician, as John hadn't had much mass to him to begin with. He wasn't the only one who'd noticed either—Masako had been stealing worried glances at John ever since he arrived.

Masako herself seemed to be doing well—her TV show had become a hit over night a couple of years ago, and it was an understatement to say she was living comfortably. Strangely enough, however, Masako had seemed the most out of sorts when the whole mess started. Actually, when Takigawa thought about it, she'd been behaving oddly even before that—Masako, and Lin as well.

Almost as though summoned by Takigawa's thoughts, the door to Naru's office swung open, and Lin stepped out. The monk had to stop himself from glaring, for two reasons—one, there was no way the Chinese man was much younger than him, and yet Lin's hair was showing no signs of graying, damn him! Two the musician had always felt the man somehow knew more about what had happened than the rest of the group, but hadn't told anyone—not even Naru. Takigawa took a breath to compose himself while Lin addressed the small assembly.

"Naru said he'd be out momentarily," he stated, and for an instant the monk thought he saw Lin send a concerned glance towards the office before he continued, "in the meantime, would you like something to dri—"

"Water," everyone chimed immediately. They'd learned the hard way early on that Lin's domestic skills were…less than satisfactory. Takigawa wasn't sure he'd survive another cup of the swill Lin tried to pass off as tea. Or coffee. The assistant seemed rather relieved as he walked to the little kitchenette to get everyone's water.

"I'm surprised," the Australian priest commented softly. Ayako turned away from her nails to give him a questioning look.

"About what?"

"I hadn't expected Shibuya-san to agree to meet with us so easily," John shrugged, his now bony shoulders heaving themselves up before dropping back down. "I thought it would take a few trys, and then Bou-san would get tired of it and go pound on the door." Said old man chuckled lightly.

"Well, that does sound like something I would do."

"Definitely," Ayako added, wrinkling her normally pretty nose as she returned to her nails, "you're exactly the kind of person who would do something so rude."

Takigawa gaped at her, "Rude? He's the one who'd have kept us waiting forever, I think I'd have the right to be a little angry and go bang on his door!"

"Right or not," Ayako retorted, voice rising, "it's never polite to go and bang on someone's door—"

"I believe barging into someone's place of business unannounced, loitering outside their office, and demanding they join you," the medium interrupted quietly, but bluntly, "is also considered impolite. Not to mention grounds for filing a police report." The squabbling monk and miko froze and sweat-dropped.

"Y-yes, well, ah," Takigawa stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse. And failing, "he, uh, he should have expected we'd be coming by soon anyway!"

"Yeah!" Ayako grabbed his pitiful defense and tried to run with it, "I mean, its going to have been ten years next week, we've gotta commemorate, ah, it somehow." Takigawa glanced at her on "it"—Ayako had turned her eyes to the floor, expression somber. If the musician had any lingering suspicion on whether the woman had held any maternal feelings for Mai, they vanished. In all honesty, the man wanted to wrap his arm around her and pull her into a hug, but decided against it, since the seemingly uncharacteristic gesture could get him killed.

"Is that your justification for reconverting my reception room into a café?" an exasperated voice questioned from over Ayako's shoulder. Aforementioned miko jumped and tried to spin around—no doubt to give the narcissist a piece of her mind—but manage to trip on her Stiletto heels and fall backwards. On top of the monk, who, after failing to balance the two of them under such short notice, took the brunt of their fall.

Now, this would've have been an awkward situation as it was. But having an attractive woman that one has been beginning to have somewhat more than platonic feelings for is definitely more so. Takigawa had a momentary urge to push her off, so as to avoid going beyond the boundary of awkward, but fought it down. Ayako got off him own her own pretty quickly anyway, brushing herself off and glaring at Naru—who had observed the fiasco with a smirk. Repressing the need to sock the ghost hunter in the nose, Takigawa got back to his feet as well.

"Exactly how long were you waiting there, Naru-bou?" The monk could have sworn he saw the young man's eye twitch at being referred to as "bou," but it was gone as soon as he saw it.

"How long indeed," was all he said, taking a seat in his chair at the head of the table. He'd just made himself comfortable when Lin entered with everyone's water, leaving the tray on the coffee table for them to grab which ever one they liked. Takigawa reached for one with a sigh—Mai had always handed them their drinks individually. Then again, Mai had also been able to make tea.

"I'm sure you're all well aware of this," Naru began, "but I do have a great deal of work that I'm certain is more important than whatever you've come here to discuss, so if we could get this over with?" He let the question hang, leaning back into his car and lacing his fingers. And here the bass player had thought he was used to the boss' cocky nature.

Taking a claming breath, he forced his gritted teeth apart, "However important your work may be, Naru-bou, I should think Mai would take precedence." By the way Naru stiffened in his chair, it appeared Takigawa struck a nerve. 'Point for me,' he thought victoriously.

"I hardly see a reason why," he responded calmly, "She has nothing to do with this office, or my work for that matter, anymore. Mai's been gone for nearly ten years."

"Exactly," Ayako butted in, "in a week will be the ten year anniversary of when we lost her, so we all thought it'd be nice to commemorate it by—"

"Lost?" The young narcissist gave a derisive snort, "we didn't loose her."

"Then what do you call—"

"She got herself into trouble and ran away," he interrupted again, frankly, "she told us that much herself."

"Yeah!" Takigawa yelled sarcastically, standing and slamming his palms on the table, "and we haven't seen or heard from her since! We've been looking for her for years and haven't found any sign that she's even still alive, or anything! For all we know, she stuck working in some damn brothel, or dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere!" He noticed Naru's body jerk a little at the mention of Mai being dead, and that he seemed to be remembering something, but the monk kept going—the dam on his pent up anger with his failure was blown to pieces and there was no stopping it now.

"And why? Because we were all too stupid and oblivious to the fact that something was wrong," now Lin and Masako were shifting uncomfortably, "we never noticed anything, and she for some reason or another didn't tell us, and managed to leave without leaving any traces! No one—"

"Why, though?" John's uncharacteristically depressed voice stopped Takigawa's rant about how pathetic and ignorant they all were cold. He watched silently as the blond stood, leaving his untouched glass, and walked slowly to the window. His whole body seemed to radiate guilt as he rested his hands on the frame, sleeves sliding down to reveal bony wrists. Masako's hand went to her mouth at the sight.

"Why," the priest started again, "didn't she confide in us?" John closed his tired eyes and leaned his forehead against the pane, "What could have scared her so much…been so dangerous…that she felt she couldn't trust us with it? That she could no longer believe in us." The words felt like an arrow piercing Takigawa's heart. The bassist suddenly understood how the exorcist could have let himself go the way he had. The kindhearted Catholic believed they must have done something to betray Mai's trust. Something that made her think she couldn't depend on them.

He fell back into his seat, 'Maybe she was counting on us to notice something," the thought rang through the monk's mind, 'and when we didn't, she—'

"Regardless," Naru's hard voice broke the silence, "she's gone, and has no affiliation with this facility. I see no reason to commemorate the day she phoned in her resignation," he rose from the chair and headed for his door, "You may do as you please, just don't expect me to be a part of it."

"Shibuya-san?" The ghost hunter's hand froze as right before it reached the knob.

"Yes, Brown-san?" Naru responded after a moment. The exorcist turned away from the window with a confused expression.

"What other businesses are in this building?" Naru blinked at the question.

"There's a bank on the first floor and a law firm on the floor above us," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

John shook his head, "It's probably nothing, I just thought I saw a young child—"

At that very instant, the SPR door swung open, and a little girl stepped in.

**Please review and let me know what you think. Tell me if I completely messed up, or made a continuity error. Believe me, reviews can be incredible encouragement, and will probably help inspire me to update sooner.**


	3. Chapter 2 Old Child

**I am currently hiding under my bed from the probably—and rightfully so, I admit—very angry reviewers who didn't like being left with a crappy cliffhanger for how long? A week? Two? I don't even know anymore, I've been so busy with writing essays for scholarships (college should die for being expensive…), essays for Honors programs ("if you could change one event in history"—do they honestly want people like me messing with Abraham Lincoln?) and trying to learn how to analyze poetry (I suck at this) without the help of you AP teacher because he has no attention span (sort of, actually he wants us to learn how to do this stuff on our own and learn to ask for help only when we need to, but when we need to, he gets distracted by something—a poster, a student in the hall, the stanza above the one you're asking him about because "isn't that just cool"…). ::SIGH:: I love school, I do, and I love my teachers (even when they get on my nerves a tad), but I wish things wouldn't all happen at once the way they do, and then leave me with so much down time I go insane.**

**In any case, I have finally finished the second chapter, so please don't show up at my house with pitchforks and torches. I'll try to be better about updating, but sometimes life gets in the way just to spite me. Again, any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and I'd very much appreciate it if you could comment on any lines in particular that you really liked (or hated…) so I know what I should keep doing and whatnot. A sincere thank you to all who reviewed—you make my day every time I read them (and one of you almost made me turn this into a Ghost Hunt/Detective Conan fic when I read your review, and now I'm probably going to make it eventually). **

**Disclaimer: No, I still don't own Ghost Hunt, which is probably a good thing, considering how long it would take me to come out with episodes. I also claim no credit for the poems whose titles I've borrowed for the chapter titles. The only things I do claim are the plot of this fic and my OCs.**

**Forward, ho!**

A surprised and rather awkward silence permeated the room as the little girl shut the front door behind her. Although, the miko mused, "little girl" may not be appropriate for this kid—but she could understand how John could have made the mistake from two stories up. With the girl standing right in front of her, though, Ayako couldn't imagine her being younger than eleven or twelve years old. She seemed about that height, for one. For another, the clothing the girl was wearing—black jeans, black hooded-sweatshirt, black gloves with the fingers cut off, semi-bulky headphones covering her ears—did not match Ayako's image of what a little girl would be wearing at all.

The kid turned around to face the small gathering, and the woman half expected to spy a nose ring, but there wasn't. Not only were there no piercings, but no dark make-up. The only incredibly distinctive feature was her bangs, which hung long and limply over the left side of her face, obscuring her eye. Then the girl's eyes began scanning the room, right hand clutching tightly at the strap of her schoolbag on her shoulder, and Ayako noticed something in her eyes she hadn't expected.

'It's almost as though she,' The miko thought, astonished, 'recognizes this place.' The woman watched the preteen as her eyes—well, at least the visible one—swung to and fro across the area, sometimes pausing momentarily, as though checking it off some mental list. Kitchenette in the back right corner of the room, check, Mai's—ah, the assistant's (empty) desk by the entrance, check, gray-haired (oh, how Ayako loved to rub that in!) monk with a dumbfounded look on his face—check.

The girl's eyes remained on Takigawa for a moment longer than she did anything else in the room, and the miko was certain she saw the child's lips twitch upwards slightly before she turned her sights on the medium. She only gave Masako a brief once over before shifting her attention to something else, as though she didn't expect anything from the celebrity. Looking the exorcist up and down, the girl seemed to frown, and the shrine maiden couldn't blame her. Ayako herself had been spending the better part of her nail-studying trying to decide which John resembled more—an anorexic or a heroin addict. She was once again distracted from the decision when the child's eyes landed on her.

Ayako would have gasped had she not been paralyzed by that stare. It was strange how such a drab, brown-colored eye, in such a plain, unremarkable face could cause the fairly hardened miko to freeze. If she hadn't been able to see the sharp mind behind the muddy color examining her—what the child was looking for she didn't know—the woman would've sworn there was something inhuman about the girl's control over her. Then, after a few agonizingly long seconds, the young lady looked away with much the same attitude she'd given the medium. Ayako's indignation jolted her out of the shock she—and the rest of SPR, apparently—had been sent into at seeing a child enter the office.

"Look, little Miss," the miko huffed, "I have no idea what you're looking for, but I guarantee it isn't here." She waved her arm, gesturing to the decidedly not kid-friendly environment of the SPR office, "So why don't you go to a playground or the mall or something, 'cause we happen to be in the middle of an important discussion, and—"

"I need to speak with Shibuya, Kazuya-shi," Ayako was about to scream at the child about respecting your elders and waiting until a person has finished speaking (in far more colorful language) when she continued, "Then I can get out of your…hair." The woman didn't miss the less than impressed glance the girl gave her red (and recently highlighted—thank you!) locks. Neither did that idiot monk, if the suppressed sniggers were any indication. She'd get him for that—later.

"Unfortunately," the monotone of the big, bad boss entered the conversation, "I must agree with Matsuzaki-san." Naru rose from his seat and headed back to his office, "I highly doubt whatever you want me to investigate is nearly as paranormal as you think." Placing his hand on the door knob, he glanced back at the child over his shoulder, "If you ask your parents, I'm sure they'd be willing to exorcist the monsters in your closet," and began to close the door.

Before Ayako could open her mouth to yell at Naru for being excessively rude to the girl—and for running off before they'd reached a decision—the child had sprinted across the room and stuck her foot between the door and its frame, effectively preventing the young man's escape. The woman could see Naru's face form her angle, but she could only imagine he wasn't pleased, to put it kindly.

"Don't make assumptions based on my age without hearing the facts," the girl retorted, "that's how people get hurt, Naru." Ayako could tell there was something wrong with what she'd just heard but couldn't place it. She wasn't the only one, too. Takigawa-baka was blinking, a confused expression on his face. John had blinked a couple times, but then seemed more concerned about the foot getting crushed in the door. Masako's head snapped towards the child in alarm, as though she'd just done something inhuman—although standing up to Naru in such a matter could fall into that category. But Lin-san's reaction was the oddest.

The Chinese man, who'd returned to the kitchenette after serving their "drinks" and remained there all this time for God knew what reason, marched right behind the girl and clamped a hand on her shoulder with an expression that read 'I believe its time for you to leave.' She looked up at him through her narrowed visible eye, and Lin mirrored the look. Then, the girl tensed, as though preparing to throw a punch, when the narcissist opened his door.

"Where, exactly," Naru began, meeting the kid's glare levelly, "did you hear that name?" She didn't shirk back an inch from his gaze.

"I'm afraid that has no relevance to the case," the monk let out a choking laugh at this, turning everyone's attention to him.

"Damn, girl," he chuckled once he got a better hold of himself, "you've got some balls there." His chuckles quickly turned into a groan of pain when the miko smacked him, hissing that he should watch his language around a kid. The girl's only response was a blank, disinterested stare before she turned back to the psychic researcher.

"So will you hear my case out, or should I run home to oka-san and cry now?" Naru gave her a hard, examining look, not all that unlike the ones she'd given most of the other occupants of the room earlier. After a moment, he shut his eyes as though trying to hold off a headache and gestured to an open space on the couch, across from where he'd been sitting. He returned to his chair while Lin, almost begrudgingly, released the child and she made her way to her designated seat.

"Hey, wait a minute," the shrine maiden murmured, only loudly enough that the idiot monk could hear, blinking at the now occupied space.

"If you could please," Naru started, pulling a pen from his breast pocket to make notes on the clipboard his elder assistant was handing him, "state you name and ag-"

"That was my spot, you little brat!"

**::Peeks out from under the bed:: …Is it safe now?**


	4. Chapter 3 What's in a Name?

**I know you all want to kill me for taking so long, but up until last week I place all the blame for not having this up sooner on my parents. Please do yourselves all a favor and don't let you parents drag you into their mid-life crisis's. This week I blame on the AP test. You all should consider yourselves lucky that my hand finally stopped twitching enough that I can type…damn three essays in a two hour time limit. **

**Anyway, I tried to make this chapter longer to make up for the delay. Tell me what you think, please? And make sure you include excessive thanks for my friend, Chem mu, without whom this fic would never have seen the light of the internet. Seriously, bow or something. Make cookies.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the**_** copyright**_** (happy now, Mr. You-will-know-who-you-are-when-you-read-this?) for Ghost Hunt or its characters, I am merely borrowing them for personal entertainment…wow that could be taken the wrong way…eww…but I'm too lazy to rephrase it. Anyway, they belong to Fuyumi Ono, the manga ka that drew the manga, and whatever company produced the anime. This plot, and these original characters (in this chappy one) are of my own creation, though.**

Masako watched the entertaining scene of the miko and monk having a tiff over who got to sit on the couch with mild interest. After a few minutes of Matsuzaki-san stating how a gentlemen ought to relinquish his seat to a lady in need and Takigawa-san arguing that she shouldn't have stood up if she didn't want her seat stolen—"and plus, what lady? I don't see one he—ouch! That's my head, I need my head! Ow!"—Brown-san stepped in. The two quickly stopped after looking at him, averting their eyes and mumbling apologies as if they'd do anything to not have to see the priest in his state. Masako couldn't blame them, even she had trouble keeping her eyes on Brown-san for long these days—he'd withered away so much the medium often feared the wind would carry him off someday.

The monk stood and shuffled quietly to the wall and spun to lean against it with his arms crossed over his chest while the shrine maiden took his seat without the air of triumph one would have expected of her. An uncomfortable silence fell, and Masako found herself resisting the urge to drum her fingers just to create some kind of noise, which was odd as she generally enjoyed silence. But this was different. It wasn't the silence of the night, or of an expensive apartment without neighbors blaring stereos, or a burial ground free of spirits still attached to this world. Rather, it was the silence of a group trying to ignore the obvious misfortune—self-inflicted or otherwise—of a friend. It was stifling. And ridiculous. But no one could bring themselves to say so, Masako included.

After a moment of standing in the middle of the awkward quiet, the priest clumsily returned to his seat, as though unsure of whether that was what he should do or not. The couch cushions barely seemed to bend under his weight at all as he settled on it, lacing his fingers with his thumbs tapping against each other. Not for the first time in the last few years did the TV star wish she had some kind of leverage over the man with which to force him to acquiesce when she asked him to do something, since her offers and even insistences to take him to dinner were always turned down (politely, of course, but still turned down).

After all, it worked so well with Naru, and Brown-san isn't nearly as strong willed as the narcissistic ghost hunter.

The clicking of said paranormal researcher's pen ended the moment and everyone's attention was pulled from Brown-san to the black clad child. The girl was sitting straight in Matsuzaki-san's former seat, facing Naru with a gaze that could match his own any day. Naru seemed to ignore this for a few seconds, tapping the clipboard with his pen a couple of times with the air of someone who really felt he had better things to be doing with his time. Masako would have agreed with him, especially after the girl snubbed her while examining the room, but this child gave the medium an eerie feeling she could not explain. Finally, Naru shifted so he could take notes more comfortably, and turned his gaze to his "client."

"If you could give you name and age to begin with," he nearly drawled, common courtesy preventing him from being out right rude, "and then—"

"You won't need it," Naru blinked at the blunt interruption.

"…Pardon?" It was more or less an order for an explanation, rather than a question. Masako watched the researcher and child, curious as to how far the girl would try to push Naru, and how far he would let her.

"You won't be needing my name," the girl continued, "or anything else about me for that matter." Naru tapped his pen against the clipboard three more times, now in slight frustration, before narrowing his eyes at her and retorting.

"And why is that? Because I certainly can't see how we can be expected to assist you in any way if you don't give us information."

"You're twisting my words around," she responded with remarkable calm, "I never said I wasn't going to give you any information. Just none about me."

"Again, why?" Naru repeated, closing his eyes as though to stem a building headache.

"Because I'm not relevant to the case," the child finally answered, "regardless as to what you're actual client may believe."

"Wait," Takigawa-san blurted from the wall, "what do you mean 'actual client?'"

"The woman who is going to be here in about a half hour to request SPR's services," she answered without looking at the monk.

Naru's face lost the disinterested look it had been sporting for the majority of the interview in favor of an examining one. He stared at the girl for a moment, as though trying to read between the lines of what she'd said before taking the bait.

"If you're not the one intending to hire me," he asked slowly, as though expecting some sort of trap, "then what is your purpose here exactly?"

"I'm only here to present some facts that your client is unaware of," she replied simply.

"Unaware of?"

"Yes."

"So then," Matsuzaki-san's loud voice inserted suddenly, "why don't you tell the person who's really asking for our help what you know instead of wasting our time like this." It seemed the miko was still rather peeved with the child.

Masako for once found herself agreeing with the woman for once, "Indeed—why all the drama?"

"With the exception of their little spat," the girl jerked her head in the general direction of the monk and miko, "I haven't witnessed any drama here. I'm afraid you're reading too much into this." The girl finally turned her gaze to the medium, "Perhaps that is the result of too much time as the media's superstar—you begin turning everyday situations into your personal soap opera." Masako stiffened in her seat, and stuttered indignantly.

No one had ever been so frankly rude to her. Ever. Not even Naru. Masako felt so insulted she wanted to do something incredibly vulgar that she hadn't done since she was six.

She wanted to spit.

The superstar shut her mouth tight and grappled with her instincts, nearly missing the child's next words.

"But to answer the old lady's question," Masako saw said old lady's jaw drop in disbelief and thought she could hear the monk leaning against the wall give himself a hernia trying to hold in his laughter, "telling her simply wouldn't do any good." The girl seemed to become tired, talking about this, "The woman would just refuse to listen to a single word I'd say."

"Well, gee," the miko spat, "I wonder why!"

"Now, now," John attempted to clam Matsuzaki-san, who seemed beyond placating. Naru apparently decided to ignore the squabbling in the background and continue his conversation.

"Why wouldn't she believe you?" he asked. "And who is 'she,' especially in relation to you?"

"It's not important—as far as you should be concerned with me I was never here," she said quickly. "You don't need to have any record of me."

Naru's eyes suddenly held a brief twinkle of victory before he responded.

"We don't need a record of you, or you don't want us to have one?" The girl stiffened, drawing everyone's attention. No one had ever gotten this far in an argument with the sardonic researcher. Well, no one besides Madoka and Yasuharu-san, but the SPR gang had decided years ago that they didn't count, because Naru always gave in to Modoka right away (one had to wonder what the senior Ghost Hunter had done to Naru to instill such obedience, though) and Naru would always either walk away from any argument with the former Student Council President or agree with him.

At any rate, all the people in the room, Masako included, were holding their breath, waiting to see whether the girl would concede defeat. The superstar was certain it was inevitable—no one who didn't have some kind of, ah, 'influence' over the boss could ever beat Naru in…well, anything. But in spite of herself, Masako wanted to see how far this child could go, and remained as still and silent as the others.

Finally, head tilted down so both her eyes—not merely the left one—were obscured, she spoke.

"Are you still interested in hearing my case?" It came out quietly, and everyone seemed to sigh as one. The medium wondered why she was so disappointed—she'd expected it, hadn't she? Besides, this child was outright rude and didn't know her place, Naru had been right to show her where that was.

Naru's only answer was to smirk and nod. It was quiet for a few seconds more, when the girl suddenly sat straight up, and looked Naru in the eye with her visible one.

"Then you cannot record anything about me or I will not tell you a thing—those are my terms, you can take them or leave them."

Masako was, once again, taken aback. What was this child thinking! Giving Naru an ultimatum of all things. And one he had no reason to accept, she might add. Did she honestly expect this show of bravado to work on Naru of all people?

A quick scan of the room revealed concurrent sentiments. Matsuzaki-san was staring at her as though the girl were insane, mouth gaping unfemininely again. The priest looked ready to leap from his seat to comfort her as soon as Naru denied her request. Lin, who had remained unnoticed in the background for nearly this entire exchange, gave her the kind of look of strained admiration one gives someone who goes all out into a battle where anyone else could see it'd be best to cut their losses. The only person who seemed to still have faith in the child was Takigawa-san, who just stood there grinning at her pluck.

Strangely enough, the narcissist didn't rattle off something along the lines of "you came here on your own asking for help, and therefore you have no right to be making demands of me, there's the door" as Masako had been expecting. Instead he remained quiet for so long that the medium was compelled to return her gaze to him, to find he was examining the girl as though she were a complicated cipher of some sort. Masako gasped into her kimono sleeve.

'He's interested! He's actually intrigued!" she thought franticly. But just because this girl's behavior fascinated him didn't mean Naru would simply give in to her demand. The two end up in a prolonged staring contest, each trying to intimidate the other to step down. The silence, so thick the medium was certain she could have cut it with a knife, was unexpectedly broken by the clearing of the throat of one of the last people Masako would have anticipated interfering in Naru's battle of wills.

"I think," Lin began, as the room's more vocal occupants turned to him in shock, "what you mean is you don't want any written record of your presence here, correct?"

The child studied the Chinese man warily before replying, "Yes. It's for the best."

"Then, as long as we agree not write down any part of our conversation, you can tell us your name and age," for a moment the girl looked like she would refuse flat out when Lin continued quickly, "You can even just give us your first name if you wish, so we can't look you up."

She seemed to consider this and glanced at Naru, whose look of surprise from his assistant's uncommon intervention had turned into a glare. The medium thought she saw a smirk cross her face, but then it vanished and it's was just as plain and unremarkable as before.

"I'll accept that," she answered blankly. Then she sent the narcissistic researcher a challenging glance with a clear message—are you going to continue to fight me, or will you behave like an adult, rise above petty arguments, and listen to my case? It was painfully obvious to the TV star that either way, the girl won.

Another thick silence passed while everyone waited for Naru's answer. With a nearly imperceptible sigh, and one last how-dare-you-force-me-to-negotiate-with-a-kid glare towards Lin, the big bad boss clicked his pen closed and shoved it in his inner breast pocket. Handing the clipboard to his assistant, he returned the girl's gaze.

"Again, if we could please start with your name."

This time Masako was sure she saw the child's lips curve upward before they parted to say,

"Kaura."

**Graaggghhhhh****!!!! This chapter took forever to get through! Ow, my neck hurts, so I'm going to bed. Remember to review and tell me what you think. And thank Chem mu. **

**Oh, and hopefully I'll have time before summer break to add another chapter. If not, see ya when school's out!**


	5. Chapter 4 Age is but a Number

**You guys have every reason to kill me for taking—what, almost a year?—to update. I don't blame you, and if our positions were switched I'd probably join you. But do keep in mind that if you kill me then I'll never finish.**

**At any rate, to make many long stories short, lots of crap happened that kept distracting me from this and before I know it its 2008. I'll have to try to be better at this. Also, I'm sort of starting another, if not two or more fics at the same time, so if I don't update this for a while again, please look for those.**

In hindsight, perhaps joining his old friends in trying to convince Shibuya-san to commemorate Taniyama-san's…departure, for lack of a better term, on only two hours of sleep wasn't the most intelligent thing John had ever done. In his defense, though, he'd felt fine when Bou-san had knocked on his door—he'd even go as far as to say he'd been somewhat hyper. The exorcist had had trouble sitting still on the bus ride to SPR. But, John mused, that was probably just adrenaline. It had happened before—John wouldn't get as much sleep as he probably should, yet would function rather efficiently for a few hours until whatever energy source he was draining ran out and he crashed.

And it seemed to be happening yet again—the priest could feel his eyelids start getting heavier as the child began explaining the case. He began focusing his attention on keeping his eyes open while scolding himself for deciding against grabbing some coffee before coming here. John then berated himself further for reprimanding himself over something so trivial when he should be concentrating on staying awake and listening to the girl—she said her name was Kaura? Or was it Kauri…Kerri?

Well…at any rate…there'd been incidences at her school, and she was listing them. First the power going out in just her classroom, then…oh wow, was the room going fuzzy?...and bookshelf nearly collapsing on Kira's teacher, and something—John barely suppressed a yawn—something about a projector…John hoped the bobbing of his head as he kept fazing out wasn't as obvious as it felt…a beaker exploding as her teacher walked into the middle school science lab to talk to the teacher—Now Bou-san was interrupting, something about why she said the middle school lab…

"What the hell!"

"You've gotta be shitin' me!"

John practically jumped out of his seat at the miko and monk's respective outbursts, eyes flying open in time to see Matsuzaki-san punch Takigawa-san in the back of the head for swearing in front of the child. Completely bewildered, the exorcist took a quick look around to see if there were any clues as the meaning of this brouhaha. Besides the aforementioned pair's actions, there wasn't much to go on. Hara-san was gaping at the girl with an expression of one who is certain that they didn't hear what was said correctly. Shibuya-san hadn't moved from the position he'd been in when John was last consciously aware of him, although his eyebrows seemed like they may have risen a little in surprise. It took a few moments for the priest to locate Lin—apparently the Chinese man had retreated to the kitchenette, although he didn't seem to be doing anything there except stare at a can of coffee with a grim look on his face. The girl in the center of all this—Kassi, that was it!—was completely ignoring the rest of the room's inhabitants as she began rummaging through her bag.

The poor, befuddled Australian didn't have to wait long for an explanation—Bou-san soon continued.

"Look," Takigawa-san defended, rubbing his abused skull, "there is no way you can expect me to believe that this girl is only nine years old!"

"I know that!" Matsuzaki-san spat back, "I can't either, what with the way she dresses and her height. But whatever age she is, she's hardly an adult and there is no need to introduce her to such lang—"

"You don't need to worry about that," the girl cut in, still searching through her bag, "I've been able to name a profanity for nearly every letter of the English alphabet since I was five. I'm hardly sheltered." John managed to catch a look of triumph on the visible part of her face before she slammed something down on the table in front of him. "Take half of one of those so you don't fall asleep on your train and end up getting molested by some pervert on your way home," Kaura (now a little more awake, John could remember) instructed, before she began closing her bag. The exorcist blinked at the blunt and clearly un-sheltered remark before glancing down at the label on the bottle in front of him. He gasped, shocked with what the contents of the container were supposed to be, and opened his mouth to say something when Hara-san grabbed the pills from his hand and beat him to the punch.

"Caffeine pills? What are you doing with caffeine pills? You can't—"

"They're not mine," the girl retorted calmly, looking at the medium with a bored expression.

"Then where did you get them?" The miko questioned, snatching the bottle from the medium and examining it herself.

Kaura rolled her eye, finally showing some irritation and stealing the container back. "I confiscated them from an idiot this morning who already has caffeine running through his veins instead of blood, and had no need for a further energy burst," she answered before handing the caffeine pills back to John. "Although I do not understand how it seems so impossible for a nine-year old to have caffeine pills in her backpack, or how my choice in clothing is supposed to represent my age."

"Well it does!" Bou-san leapt back into the conversation and John took this opportunity to down one of the small pills while everyone else was distracted. "How many nine-year olds walk around looking like Goths? I bet we could sit outside the mall and not see any!"

"That's other kids, and their choice in clothing, or perhaps their parents' choice" the dark child responded with a shrug. "This, on the other hand, is my way of dressing, which I chose on my own. Besides, it's not like there is some kind of rule that everyone of a certain age is supposed to dress the same way."

"W-well, no, but…uh…it's—"

"Just how things are done?" Kaura finished for the unsure monk, "I don't see how it has to be."

"Besides that, though," Matsuzaki-san tagged Takigawa-san out, "you're way too tall to just be nine. I mean come, on," she finished, looking around for support. The musician and TV star were nodding in agreement, with a slight air of triumph, while Naru squeezed the bridge of his nose and Lin-san—looking peculiarly uncomfortable— seemed to finally decide to do something with the coffee. When the miko turned to John, he tried to smile slightly in response, but turned his eyes away—truthfully, he'd seen nine year olds Kaura's height and taller back in Australia.

"So is the guy over there who's acting like the coffee machine is going to bite him," the girl retorted simply, as though Matsuzaki-san wasn't quite bright. The Chinese man looked up from his venture at being brought into the conversation. Kaura gave an exasperated sigh, "Look, do you want me to do that for you?"

"May we please return to the task at hand?" Kazuya Shibuya-san's voice seemed to demonstrate how close he was to reaching the end of his patience. Kaura turned back to him, leaving Lin and the coffee to their own devices.

"I'm not sure what for," she responded, "I've already told you everything that's happened." John blinked. She had? How long had he been dozing? "That should be all you need to do your job."

" I will be the judge of that," the boss retorted. He sat back in his seat again and clicked his pen once more, "You've said that the actual client—"

"My teacher."

"…your teacher, was unaware of certain facts?"

"Only the details of those incidents I told you about," the girl answered. The priest was really going to need to read the case file. Preferably when no one was looking. The nine year-old continue, shaking John out of his musings, "The woman missed those details because she is convinced that she already knows the cause of the accidents, and refuses to consider any other possibilities."

The ghost hunter tilted his head to the side, shooting the child a questioning glance, "You think she's wrong?"

Kaura rolled her visible eye, "I know she's wrong." She rose and hefted he backpack while turning away from her interviewer. Approaching John, she snatched the bottle of pills from his hand with one of hers and slipped it neatly into a pocket while pointing the index finger of her other hand at him chidingly.

"Now, when that pill wears off, you're going to crash again. But I expect you to listen to your body this time and get some damn sleep when that happens instead of grabbing some coffee or something," the girl straightened and placed both hands on her hips. "I don't know what you're beating yourself up over, but letting yourself waste away isn't going to fix anything. Honestly, look like either an anorexic or a heroin addict," and with that Kaura made her way toward the door.

"Leaving already?" Shibuya-san asked over Takigawa-san, Matsuzaki-san, and Hara-san's indignant sputters on the Australian's behalf. She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"I told you she'd be here soon. I have no desire to—" Kaura cut herself off and whipped her head back towards the door as though she had heard something. John was about to ask what was wrong when the child dove into the closet right next to the office's entrance. Just as the closet door closed behind her the front door swung open, revealing two figures.

"If you just step in here I am sure Shibuya-san will be right—" Yasuhara-san looked up and stopped mid-sentence, "Ah, Naru, there you are! I found this lady outside the building—it seems she has a case for you!"

**Enter Yasuhara-san. I've been wanting to write that entrance for ages, but I had to get through semi-conscious, depressed John first sigh. Well, reviews are appreciated. They make me feel loved and like I should work on this more.**


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